Love Will Kill You
by Nyneve
Summary: Dark, angsty, rather confusing story. SetsunaHeero...or something like that...


Love Will Kill You

Author:  Nyneve

One-shot ficcie.  OKAY EVERYONE?  DO WE UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF 'ONE-SHOT'?!?!?!  AS IN, THE STORY IS TOLD IN ONE PART?!?!?!?!  *deep breaths*  Sorry.  Lost the happy.  Happy's back.  I'm in my happy place now.  It's good.  It's all good.  Don't own the anime.

-Nyneve

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I do not understand why everyone says love is such a beautiful thing.

It isn't.

It's cold, ugly, greedy, and deadly.  I know.  I watch love consume him every day.  Because the hate exhausts him, and the indifference kills him.  Love is his only other option if he wants to live.  But it's not living, really.  It's a half-life, a shallow existence that will go on for eternity, because he'll never give in.  Those angels he gives his heart, mind, and body to take the rest of his life.  They feed off of him like vampires, but they will never break his will.  It's the only strong thing he has left.

Sometimes, the angels confront me and ask how I can say such things about love.  After all, I love him, don't I?  

No.  I could never love him.  Because to love is to kill, and the last thing I want is to kill him.

When I say that, the angels start laughing.  Anyone who ever says angelic laughter sounds like bells is right.  Light, tinkly, heavenly bells that hypnotize the weak minded and ensnare the souls of the hopeless.  When they finish laughing, they touch me.  Hugging me, patting my back, telling me how silly I am.  But they're both hypocrites.  I can feel their true thoughts.  They think I'm a demon.  A devil that may steal the soul of their loved one.  

Perhaps that's true.  I am called Pluto.  Pluto, Hades, Erebus, Hell.  It all fits together.  And then I think of the angels.  Serenity, and Peacecraft.  Guiding lights for misfortunate souls.  Beings so pure, so innocent, so light that it hurts dark ones like me.  But after they leave, I sit in the dark, waiting for him to return.

I don't know why I bind myself to him.  It's not love.  It's not pity.  It's not loneliness.  I have never longed to feed off of him like the angels do, and I have never needed him to act as a tool like the true devils of his past did.

It was years ago, but not many.  I had already lost that pure innocence the angels still possess, and had entered the darkness.  I found him on the street, speaking to the devils' leader.  They were planning to kill the man who was viewed as practically king of the world.  But still a mortal king.

I listened for hours, for young minds are curious, although it will often send them to their graves.  No further cares for the world dwelt within me, although they would not believe that when they found me.  He held me against a wall, while the leader studied me closely. I waited patiently for them to kill me, or to let me go.  I possessed, and still possess, the strength to be indifferent to life and death.  He wasn't so lucky.

They decided I wasn't worth it.  They ordered me to leave.  I simply stated that I wouldn't.  When they asked why, I calmly replied there was nowhere for me to go.  I had always been alone, ever since I was a baby.  It dawned on me that I was not human, and was simply some spirit abandoned and left to survive by my own methods in this strange world I spend my days in.  

Even the leader, with his cleverness and guile, and the tool, with his amazing comprehension of all things, couldn't seem to understand that.  Then, the leader decided that he wanted me to be a tool for him as well.

I plainly said no.

He ordered me to, or said that he would kill me.

I said no.

Then, the tool pulled a gun and pointed it at me.  I didn't move.  Instead, I looked into his eyes.  They were blue.  As blue as the ocean was once, before it became spoiled and polluted.  But they were icy too.  All of the pain and sorrow and heartache of the world seemed to be held in his cerulean orbs, despite the fact that he looked a couple years younger than myself.  I was so intrigued; I didn't even notice the bullet entering my body.

I heard the leader gasp and felt his hands on me as he felt the area on my chest where the bullet had entered.  There was no blood, and not even a wound.  But the bullet was gone.  All this time I was still absorbed in the tool's eyes, so I didn't really pay attention to what the leader was doing.  By the time I was finished studying the eyes, he was gone.

I asked him what his name was.  He told me, and asked me mine.  I paused.  I never really decided on what my name was.  As a metaphor, I had been calling myself Pluto, but that was more of a nickname.  I'd never really had to be called anything by anyone.  "Girl" or "Kid" was always fine enough.  But "Pluto" was the name I gave him.  

Maybe, by giving him my name, I gave him something else.  I don't know.  But as the years went by, our paths were one.  I was his mother, his sister, his daughter, his friend, his lover.  He was my…

I can never finish that sentence.  By defining things, we capture them.  I know that most of all.  I allowed him to define me, and that must be the way he captured me.  But he never realized that.  Despite all of his efforts to kill his emotions and humanity, he could never free himself from them.  And in turn, he could never free me.

I remember, as he lay in my arms at night, the way he would say he wanted to be me.  He liked the way I didn't care about things.  He envied the way I had successfully killed my emotions.  He lusted for my strength, for my immortality.  I saw that beyond his cold shell, he was scared.  He was trying to use me as something to heal him.  Something that would give him peace and the will to keep living.

I tried to tell him it didn't work like that.  No one can ever heal you completely, you can only heal yourself.  But he didn't listen.  He just kept trying to get me to heal him.  But I couldn't.  So he became even weaker.  He needed to turn to something else.  So he turned to her.

She was my exact opposite.  Light, where I was dark.  A bright, burning star, where I was a black hole.  Full of emotions, memories, thoughts, where I was empty.  I was almost happy when he found her.  He almost had me convinced that if anyone could heal him, it would be her.  She was an angel, his saving grace.  And she _loved_ him.  He had found her only a short time after he found me.  But he was so preoccupied with being a tool, and trying to use me to heal himself that he barely noticed her.  But she had loved him from the moment she set eyes on him.  That was the greatest difference between her and myself.  She loved him, and I didn't.

He stopped coming back at night.  Sometimes he'd be with her for days.  When he would visit me, he always seemed better.  He talked more, and he seemed less empty.   At first.  I would watch him sleep at night, though.  He would moan in his sleep, and sometimes he would fade away to nothing.  That was when the odd thing happened.

I started to feel things.  Or rather, one thing.  Fear.  I was scared that I'd lose him.  I didn't know why at first.  I can still to this day say I don't, and never did, love him.  I wasn't scared that he was going to leave me alone.  I never really felt as close to him as he said he felt to me anyways.  I think I was sensing it.  The fact that she would destroy him.  And I didn't want her to destroy anyone, let alone him.

I knew what was happening.  Instead of being healed, he was getting worse.  And when I tried to tell him, he wouldn't listen.  He was so blind to everything that he would put blind faith in any woman who showed him the affecting he craved.  Any woman who wasn't me.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years.  Sometimes he would come back to me.  We'd talk, mostly.  That was the part I enjoyed the most.  Because he would always listen, and understand.  Those skills were the only gifts I ever gave him.  But I realize now I shouldn't have.  I always tried to understand people in hopes of being able to feel something.  It never worked for me, but it worked well for him.  The problem was that he didn't want to feel anything.  

That was when I pointed out that if he wasn't careful, she would make him feel love.  He froze right there.  Of all things, love was what he wanted to feel least of all.  I thought I had finally gotten through to him.  I thought he would finally stop believing that she was healing him, and finally understand that she was making him worse by filling him with uncontrollable emotions.

He stopped seeing her.

He moved back into my apartment, and things were all right for a while.  Sometimes she would come by, begging for him to return to her.  She made him promises, so many promises.  She pointed at me and called me a demon that would destroy him.  She told me she pitied me; that I had to steal him back in order to keep on living.  But he wouldn't listen to her anymore.  He was too scared that she would bring him back and take him completely.

She didn't.  Serenity did.

She was different then Peacecraft, and yet, the same.  She was every bit as pure and innocent, without being as dignified and elegant.  A child, really.  She was a few years younger than him, and a great deal younger than me.  She laughed and smiled and teased him, then twisted his mind in her cute little way.  Rather than being direct and lying with a straight face like Peacecraft, she mixed half-truths and loopholes around in order to make him think that he was feeding off of her.  But she was just the same.  

Maybe she was stronger than Peacecraft.  It certainly didn't take long for him to start fading away again.  But there was one disgusting thing different this time:  he knew.

He was completely aware that she was slowly killing him with her girlish giggles and innocent smiles.  I didn't even have to confront him about it.  He came to me late one night, told me everything I already knew, and apologized.  He said I couldn't save him this time though, because if I did he would end up killing the both of us.  I didn't understand what he meant by that, but before I could ask, he was gone again.  He had returned to wait for his death in her arms.

And I was alone again.  But now, I never really felt alone.  Sometimes I would see him sitting by the window in my apartment, staring at his reflection in the glass like he always used to do.  I'd hear him say my name, and keep hearing his plead not to be his savior again.  At night I'd dream he came back, only to wake up freezing cold and wide awake.  It was driving me mad.  And again, I questioned what he meant to me.

I compared the times he was with me to the times he wasn't.  Because the phantoms that resembled him were always around me, the two sort of blended together.  But I remember clearly now that the times he was with me for real, I felt whole.  I could feel his emotions and thoughts no matter how hard he tried to hide them, but unlike the angels, I couldn't touch them.  It was like he was everything I wasn't, and when he was gone, I was missing part of myself.  

No one wants to live a half-life.  He didn't, I didn't, and we each didn't want the other to.  He would turn to the angels, and I would turn to the phantoms.  I realized then that it didn't matter if he would kill both of us.  Because a full life dying is better than two half-lives living.

It took me a while to find him.  Serenity had double-crossed him, and brought him back to Peacecraft.  But he didn't care anymore.  He didn't have enough energy left to care.  All he could do was wait.  But death was going to take him eternity, and even he didn't want to suffer that much.

I pulled up to Peacecraft's house in my car.  Her guards attacked me, and fired their guns at me when I wouldn't leave.  But I walked straight through them, once the terror overtook them and they turned and fled.  I entered the house and made my way to a warm room heavy with incense.

I saw them, all three of them.  Triumphant Peacecraft, Giggling Serenity, and him, laying limp on the floor.  

When the angels saw me, they smiled and asked if I'd come to trying and take him.  I didn't come there to lie.  I nodded.

Demon.  Vampire.  Agent of the Devil.  I only want to steal his soul to please my true lover, Satan.  Why couldn't I just leave him to his salvation?

I stood quiet and solemn at their remarks.  I never made any back; I just stood there, like a statue.  We all knew they couldn't hurt me.  And that once he woke up, their spell over him would be broken, and he would come back again.  They couldn't let that happen.

So, Serenity took him in her arms while Peacecraft approached me.  She tried to make the sign of the cross against me, but perhaps because I was a demon, nothing happened.  Then, she looked at Serenity.  They both started praying.

I didn't expect that.  I bit my lip when I realized they were trying to heal me, to make me like them.  They said they pitied me, but loved me.  Peacecraft made her promises; she said she'd show me the wonderful things about love and joy.  My soul would finally know peace.  Serenity told me of the wonderful benefits I'd receive being an angel like them.  I'd become light and beautiful like them, and I'd soon learn the joy of healing people.

I said no.

They froze.  Screeching, Peacecraft's promises became pleads, and Serenity's temptations became begs.  I refused again.

Maybe it was because they had never been refused before, their power broke.  With tears streaming down their faces, they tore open the windows, spread their gossamer wings, and vanished into the night.  The room became frigid, and the smell of incense started to smell like decay and death.

I took him in my arms and whispered his name.  He woke up, and looked into my face.  I found myself again staring into his eyes.  Now, the pain and sorrow was gone.  I saw adoration and peace in them.  But then he spoke.

And he killed me.

He said he loved me.

I love you too, Heero.

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There!  Now I've confused and/or depressed you all!  Maybe this is why you never find any Setsuna/Heero fics…R+R+R!


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